3 Make a Team
by Casting Moonlight
Summary: Armada. The untold stories and experiences of the minicons that were so crucial in a civil war. Drabbles of individual and teamed minicons, with some Autobot and Decepticon fit in as well. Will be updated sporadically.
1. Ambiguous

**Title:** Uncertain Thoughts  
><strong>PairingsCharacters: **Prowl  
><strong>Prompt Word:<strong> Ambiguous  
><strong>Words: <strong>1032  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Do not own Transformers.

Enjoy!

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><p>The flames crept closer and closer to the propane tanks, crackling like a live creature and casting demented shadows over the gray concrete walls as it continued to trek along the diluted oil spreading in webbed lines of the groove-ridden floor. It would, fortunate or unfortunate was up for debate really, reach the propane tanks before it could reach him. The rubble strewn room made for a rather ghastly sight without the red and orange licking fire but as it was, Prowl felt more than a little frightened of the visual.<p>

It was like an ironic joke that the universe decided to play, Prowl imagined as he tiredly watched the opalescent liquid crawl across the floor. After a lifetime of seeking and searching for a variety of things and also rescuing and helping people on this, in his opinion_ perfectly_ sized, small planet, he was trapped in a underground bunker with a gaping hole in his side. There was already a puddle of plasma pooled under him from where vital energon lines had been speared open.

Prowl wearily laid his helm against a broken metal strut that was propped slanted in the floor and vented softly. He would have been a bit more eager to stay online and keep tabs on the fire's path if he knew someone was going to rescue him.

It had been a foolish mistake.

Makeshift had been right; he was too rash, overeager. He had safely evacuated the soldiers from the bomb bunker as his mission entailed. They had been trapped within the bunker after the doors had been lodged too deeply in the ground by tremors in the earth for a human, or a entire group of strong humans, to lift free. After escorting the unconscious soldiers halfway down a road that lead to a military camp and setting out a SOS beacon for them, he had returned to secure the bunker before heading back to the Autobot base.

Prowl had thought he heard screaming from inside and he had eagerly ran inside of the bunker to seek out the human and get them to safety. He had scolded himself once on the way in for actually leaving one of the humans behind then a second time when he found the broken pipe that was issuing the high-pitched sound. That was when another of the tremors from a deep earthquake shook the fragile supports of the bunker once more. Prowl had been standing in the middle of the room when the ceiling fell to pieces from the stress of so many tremors.

After throwing himself out of the way of a piece of equipment falling over, one of the chunks of concrete from the ceiling had fallen across his legs and snapped a few neural wires causing him to loose all sensor readings from his legs. A beam that came loose from the rupturing ceiling grazed him just enough to tear a hole in his side. He had been able to lower his sensor net's pain receptors over that area of his torso but unlike a medic, he could not turn them off so the ache kept him subdued beneath the rubble.

Makeshift would have had him patched up in astro-seconds but Prowl only knew some first aid and none of it was enough to cover holes in one's frame. Besides his medic teammate was back at the Autobot base taking care of the Sea Team that had ironically contracted a Rust Infection; they were supposed to have some sort of immunity in their armor toward that, weren't they?

Prowl was supposed to be there. He was supposed to be helping Spiral and Iceberg organize a few new supplies that came from the kids earlier that deca-cycle. Instead he had snuck out; the why escaped him but it hadn't taken him long to discover the frantic radio signals from a military camp about some missing troops. His instinctive programming and concern for the humans had driven him to scout out their patrol route. Thus he was here.

Firebot would probably be mad at him, Prowl thought suddenly. It was a well known rule that all mini-cons and Autobots were to avoid human notice, except for Rad, Carlos, and Alexis. Firebot had been enforcing that rule to him ever since they were told it. Prowl just couldn't help it sometimes. He liked humans! Now, though, Firebot would probably be angry at him because he and Makeshift had been and were _already_ angry with him. That thought hurt.

Given another few breems the flames would hit the propane tanks scattered in the corner. As a rescue mini-con... Prowl knew it was likely he would not survive the blast. At best, his armor and plating would melt from the heat and make him an unrecognizable mess of metal with low chances of survival if he did not receive help in at least one or two joors afterward. His spark chamber might even shatter from the intense heat which lead to the worst case scenario; deactivation. He would most likely die even if he survived the initial blast.

His thoughts of his own deactivation brought unwanted tears to his optics, misting the glass lenses. He wanted Firebot! He wanted Makeshift! Prowl attempted to curl in his upper body as close together as he could, wrapping his arms over his mangled torso with small whimpers as his arm brushed against the exposed wires. He drew on the rare moments when Makeshift felt indulgent and Firebot managed to sit still long enough that they joined him on the couch in their quarters and, dare he say or think it, cuddle up with him while he watched the delightful human creation called a TV and the funny animated things on the TV called cartoons.

He immersed himself with that memory and imagined that his own arms were the ones of his teammates and managed a wobbly smile just as an explosion filled the entire room with a red-hot wave of fire and shrapnel.

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><p>Please review?<p> 


	2. What Must Be

**Title:** What Must Be  
><strong>PairingsCharacters: **Optimus, Red Alert  
><strong>Prompt Word: <strong>Immortal  
><strong>Words:<strong> 329  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Do not own Transformers.

Enjoy!

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><p>A Prime was a mighty symbol of power and responsibility. They inspired awe in the low and high crevices of Cybertron. They were also the perfect example of one of the most strived for goals on any planet.<p>

They were the very symbols of immortality.

The last was always a source of extreme intimidation. Cybertronian immortality was much different from the term immortal the human race had adopted.

As being of machines, metal and wires and programming, as cold as that may seem they were still very alive, they could live theoretically forever with the right, perfect maintenance and absolute care.

The Primes were both literally and figuratively immortal once christened with the title. All Primes were remembered, their lives and deeds etched in the tombs of their ancestral brothers. Accounts that could be followed to the beginning of Cybertron; the beginning of time.

At the same time, when bestowed with the Matrix of Leadership, a Cybertronian was upgraded accordingly to draw on the powers of the ancient relic.

Primes were upgraded to such smooth and pristine conditions that the already long, long life-cycle of a Cybertronian was believed to be doubled –or at least no longer needing to be under constant maintenance-.

Injuries were hard pressed to hinder the Prime physically and viruses met brutal resistance from increased firewalls. The Matrix itself worked to ensure its hosts survival; so long as the Prime remained true to the Codes of Primus. Corruption has seen Primes destroyed through abuse of the Matrix, forcing it to use its strength for purposes against Cybertron's safety.

Red Alert had always believed in the powers of the Matrix but until he had become Optimus Prime's science and medical officer, he could now attest to the literal strength the Matrix gave its host.

Yet in this knowledge was sorrow. The reason was very simple. No matter how much he may yearn or want; Optimus Prime was immortal and he, Red Alert, was so very dispensable.

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